for me, for you

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welcome!

Ever wish you could live inside someone’s brain? It’s a weird thought, right? Well here’s your opportunity to make that creepy wish come true.  I don’t want to write about myself necessarily, but I am going to write about my thoughts and opinions on pretty much anything that I think is relatively interesting.  And, what I find most interesting in life is often anything related to pop culture.  Case in point: the name of this blog.  Catch the reference? Yes, that’s right. I named my blog after Randy Jackson, the judge from American Idol: a fifty year old man who barks on national TV and dresses like a douchey version of Taio Cruz or LeBron James (which is saying a lot).  When he’s critiquing contestants on the show, if he’s not name dropping artists he’s worked with, then he’s probably saying something relatively illogical that he clearly believes is truly profound.  Most notably, he usually starts off a criticism by saying, “you know dog, for me, for you.." He’ll literally say things like "you know dog, for me, for you it was a little pitchy dog, but that’s just for me, because I know you, and for you, I don’t know man, for me for you, it just wasn’t there for me tonight." 

While I don’t want to be Randy Jackson, his words resonate with me to an extent.  Mostly, I’m writing a blog because I’m bored and I want something to do other than watch TV.  So this is something that’s I’m doing, for me but I’m taking it public in the hopes that I can provide some entertainment for you (you see what I did there?).  Granted the “you” out there reading this probably includes my best friends and possibly a family member or two.  The problem with that is that anyone I’m close with is already very familiar with my thoughts on life and you hear those thoughts in person; you’re probably not going to spend your own free time reading what I say when you hear it all the time anyway.  So I will continue to write this blog as if it is for the masses, with the full understanding of what this really is: a weird ass diary that I’m making public.  You know when you’re idle on a pandora station and a pop-up window asks if you’re still there because they don’t like playing to an empty room?  I have no problem with that.